


Break the Chain

by bitboozy



Series: Domesticated [22]
Category: Broadchurch
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, F/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, but angst and smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-19 16:16:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20660087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitboozy/pseuds/bitboozy
Summary: A nightmare about Joe sends Ellie into a post-traumatic episode. Fortunately (or unfortunately), Alec has gotten rather good at helping her recover.





	Break the Chain

It’s an unusually clear night in Broadchurch, the kind where you can actually see the stars well enough to make out constellations.

At the beach, Ellie and Daisy lie on the sand, on top of a fleece blanket, relishing the quiet and the stillness of the evening.

Ellie turns her head to look at Daisy. “You cold?”

She shakes her head.

Tonight they resumed their routine of seeking out international restaurants, this time finding a Moroccan place up in Exmouth. Afterward, once they’d admitted to each other almost simultaneously that they weren’t ready to go home yet, they ended up here.

“Things better with your dad?” Ellie asks.

Daisy turns her head to meet her gaze. “Like you don’t know.” She smirks.

“Like to hear it from _you_, though.”

“Much better,” Daisy confirms.

“He’s so tickled, you wouldn’t believe,” Ellie tells her. “Just the idea of spending more time with you has got him all goofy. Quite cute really.”

Daisy scrunches up her nose. “Dad’s never been _cute_.”

“Oh, my dear, now that’s where you’re wrong,” Ellie argues. “He’s so cute I just want to sink my teeth into him sometimes.”

“Gross.

Ellie rolls her eyes. “Not like _that_.”

“My bedroom’s not as far away from yours as you would think,” Daisy remarks.

Ellie’s eyes widen. “Wha?”

Daisy shakes her head. “That’s all you’re gettin’ out of me, I’ll not discuss it any further,” she says haughtily.

They’re quiet again for a few moments. Then Ellie turns to her again, propping her head up on her elbow.

“How’s tricks with Colin?”

Daisy is skeptical. “Dad put you up to this?”

“_No_, do you not remember our rule? Your father does not trespass on our dates, in _any_way,” Ellie says. “My questions and opinions are purely my own.”

“Things’re all right,” Daisy tells her, sitting up a bit. “Kind of don’t feel like I actually _want _to be datin’ anyone at the moment. Oddly. Dunno where it came from. Just feelin’ bored of all that. Plus, it’s like my time is not my bloody own. I have to account for my whereabouts to him all the time. It’s like, I already have a _Dad_, Colin.”

“Teenage boys are possessive. Too young to confront their own feelings and it just comes out like…like hostility,” Ellie says. “Tom’s on his way there now, I’m afraid.” 

“Oh god,” Daisy sighs. “One is enough, now I’ll _have _to break it off with Colin.”

“That what you want?”

“Dunno, maybe.” Daisy lies back down again. “Anyway once the baby comes I’ll be a lot busier.”

“No.” Ellie frowns at her. “Baby’s _our _responsibility, mine and your dad’s. You need not take _that _into consideration."

“Yeah, but I’m sure there’ll be plenty for me to do, ways I’ll need to help out.”

“Well, sometimes, yeah,” Ellie admits. “But you’re not on the hook for anythin’, Daiz. Your life won’t change so much, not if I have any say in the matter. All three of you, business as usual.”

“Seems a little unrealistic,” Daisy says, sounding much older than her years.

“Listen, not _your _fault your dad and I are such bloody idiots.” Ellie grins at her. “We should never be left alone together.”

“Are you excited?” Daisy asks, earnestly.

“Bout the baby?” Ellie thinks about it. “Excited’s not the word I would use. Happy, of course. But I wouldn’t say I’m counting down the days or anything.”

Daisy sits up and regards her curiously. “Can you feel it yet?”

“No.” She shakes her head and smiles. “Your dad swears _he _can though. Feels an _energy _or something, he says. Whenever he lays a hand there.” She lays her own hand on her stomach as if to demonstrate. “Stupid. Sweet, but stupid.”

Daisy laughs. “It’s weird how he gets so smushy sometimes. Other people would never guess.”

“Oh, people at work would have an absolute _conniption _if they saw how he was at home,” Ellie agrees heartily.

“You should invite them over,” Daisy suggests, already snorting with laughter at the thought of it. “You should throw a party, Dad would _d i e._”

Ellie laughs hysterically, turning over onto her stomach. “Oh god, he’d never forgive me. Ever. That would be the end.” 

“Think you’d frankly have to do a lot worse to be rid of him,” Daisy replies.

“Worse than throwing a party in our home with all of our colleagues?” She shakes her head. “No, I think that would about do it.”

Daisy shrugs. “He’d be fine if you were there. He’s always fine if you’re there,” she says. “Even goes in the water sometimes, with you.”

“I know,” Ellie replies softly. “But I’d never _ask _him to. You see the difference?”

She thinks about it. Or at least pretends to think about it. “I guess.” Daisy lies down flat again, looking up. “Love is so weird." 

Ellie smiles at her. “_So _weird.”

*

That night, Ellie dreams of Joe.

She hears his voice before she sees him. He calls her “El” and “love.” Just like…

He’s smiling at her when he comes into view. She’s done something a bit daft and he can’t resist taking the piss out of her. But his smile is full of adoration. Just like... 

His arm is around her, his body curled into hers, his hand on her stomach. Just like…

She can feel his breath hot on her ear. His hand begins to drift downward. His lips are on her neck.

And she jerks awake, forcing herself to sit up _immediately _so her body can’t drag her back to sleep. She’s drenched in sweat, her hair matted, her t-shirt sticking to her.

She looks over at Alec, lying with her back to her. Something he never does. She must have pushed him away in her sleep. She jumps out of bed and disappears into the loo.

In the shower, she has to hold onto the wall to keep upright. She can still feel his touch all over her.

When she returns the bedroom in a towel, Alec is sitting up against the headboard, waiting for her.

“Oh.” 

“It’s four in the mornin’, El.”

“Yeah. Um.” She goes to her bureau to dig out another pair of pyjamas. “Couldn’t sleep.

“…So you showered.”

She changes into the clothes without a word, and he continues watching her. But once she’s through, she has to face him again.

“I’m just…I’m gonna go sleep on the couch.”

His expression turns into one of alarm and he sits up straighter. “_What_?”

“Sorry, um. I just, um. Need to – “

He gets out of bed and goes to her. She takes a few steps back to avoid his touch.

“_Ellie_.”

She sighs heavily and rubs her temples. “I had a dream about Joe.”

He tenses up, keeps his distance, waits for her. 

“It was, um. His hands were on me and I…”

“Okay,” he says, nodding. “It’s all right.”

“He had his _hand _on my…” She places her hand on her stomach. Alec feels his skin start to crawl. “The baby was his.” She can barely say it.

“Jesus,” he mumbles involuntarily under his breath. “All right. It’s all right, it was just a dream, you know that it – “ He starts to go to her again.

“I know, I just need to – “ She holds her hands up, signaling for him to stay back from her. “Just need to sleep on my own. Don’t want to…feel anyone…_on _me.”

“Right.” He looks down, places his hands on his hips, then looks up again. She’s trembling. “I’ll take the couch then, you stay here.”

“No. Alec, no, I’ll –“

“I’m sleepin’ on the couch. You sleep here,” he says more firmly now. “Go on.”

He stands where he is and nods toward the bed. Then he waits for her to get back in it. She pulls the duvet over her.

“…Been awhile,” he observes. “Since you had – " 

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” He nods, mostly to himself. “Well, I’ll just be – you know.”

“Okay,” she says, then turns off the light again

He leaves the bedroom, painstakingly closing the door behind him. He starts toward the stairs, then stops, suddenly just plopping down where he is, outside the bedroom door. He leans against the wall and closes his eyes.

That’s where she finds him three hours later. When she opens the door, he nearly falls into her, but luckily he’s only half-asleep so he catches himself.

_“Alec_.”

“Sorry.” He rubs his eyes. “Mornin’.”

She’s scowling at him. “You bloody wanker, I can’t believe you did that.”

He scrambles to his feet quickly. “Couch was too far away.”

She sighs and continues past him, heading down the stairs. “Go get dressed.”

He obeys.

At breakfast, she doesn’t say much. On the commute to work, not a word. They work mostly separately through lunchtime, and then she appears in the doorway to his office.

“Got a minute?”

He gestures for her to come in, trying not to make his desperation too obvious. She closes the door behind her and approaches.

“Sorry about this morning.”

He chooses his response carefully. “…Feelin’ better?”

“I feel like shite,” she admits. “Didn’t sleep at all after you’d gone. Dunno why I thought _that _was the solution.”

He hesitates, wanting so badly to launch himself out of his chair and go to her, but he needs to wait until he’s sure that’s what she wants.

She can tell that’s exactly what he’s doing. “Oh, go on. 

Her words release him from his self-restraint and he jumps up and goes right to her, enveloping her in his arms. She reciprocates, but not with the same need.

“D’you…want to tell me about it?” He asks, lips against her hairline.

“Told you enough already,” she replies, and he understands. “Just wish I could have a real divorce. The kind where you part ways with a bitter handshake but you still get alimony and you still have to…drive your kids over when it’s his weekend and have to see each other reluctantly at parent-teacher conferences and when you fall in love with someone new you have to _introduce _them for the sake of the children and if you get pregnant again, you tell him about it. Because he needs to know. You don’t care what he thinks, but he needs to know.”Alec is looking at her warily, worried by the way she’s trembling again.

“A divorce like you and Tess have,” she says finally. “Not this…knowing he’s out there but not knowing _where _thing. Talking about him like he’s a thing of the past, like he exists only in memory when all the while he’s…somewhere. For all I know, he’s started a new life too, a life with someone new. Someone who doesn’t know what he’s done and never will. Some stupid girl who will fall in love with him the way I did, never _dreaming_, not for one second that – " 

Alec pulls her against him again, holding tightly onto her. But she keeps pulling back, needing to look at him.

“He’d have been convicted if it wasn’t for me,” she says, and even though he starts shaking his head violently, she continues. “If I hadn’t beat him up in the interrogation room, if I hadn’t given money to Lucy, if I hadn’t spent two bloody hours in your hotel room that night.”

“No, Ellie.”

“It’s true, you know it is!” Tears begin streaming down her cheeks.

“Ellie.” He takes her face in his hands. “You had a bad dream. But that’s all it was. A dream. There’s no reason to go back down this road, all right? There’s nothing for you there.” He wipes away tears with his thumb, then leads her over to the couch and sits her down. “Have a rest. Close your eyes, get the rest of all that sleep you missed out on. You’ll dream of nicer things and when you wake up, you’ll feel better.”

He guides her body into a horizontal position and she lets him. “You’re all right, love.” He strokes her hair for a moment until she finally closes her eyes.

For three hours, he does not leave his office. He sends away anyone who tries to interrupt him, and thanks god there are no major crimes committed in the area during the time she’s asleep. Whe she finally stirs, he gets up from behind his desk and goes to sit on the table by the couch. He’s determined that the first image in her mind upon waking will be _him _and not Joe.

To his utter relief, she smiles when she sees his face.

“Hey, darlin’.” He touches her cheek with the back of his hand.

“You don’t call me darlin’,” she replies, but the smile doesn’t fade. 

“’m gonna _start_.” His relief expands around him until he can almost _feel _it in the air. “Bit better now?”

“Dreamt about ducks.” She pauses, then laughs. He laughs too. Just a little.

“Really.”

“Yep. _Ducks_.”

“And do we hate ducks now?” He inquires facetiously.

She chuckles. “Love ducks. Bloody adorable, ducks are.”

Ellie sits up and stretches a bit, feeling too many of her joints crack at once.

He squeezes her knee. “You want to take the rest of the day?”

“No, no.” It’s an instinctual response.

“We can stop by the chippy, sit on the beach a while, maybe go for a drive,” he suggests. “It’s nearly three now, rest of the day’s a wash really, at this point.” She’s thinking about it, he can tell. “Or I can just take you back home and put you to bed. Bit more sleep won’t hurt you, I’ll tell you that.”

She’s still quiet, and he reaches for her hand. “Sorry you slept on the floor,” she says sleepily.

He shrugs. “My choice, not yours.”

“Can we go home?”

“’Course.” He brings her hand to his lips and kisses it. “We’ll stop at the grocery on the way, I’ll make a risotto tonight.

She grins. “You won’t.”

“Oh but I will.”

He stands, then pulls her up with him and leads her toward the door.

“You don’t like darlin’?” He questions her skeptically.

“That’s for Daisy. But if you want, you can call me _dahling _like a posh London aristocrat.”

*

She’s quiet in the car, staring out the window. He wants to hold her hand but knows it might be too much. At home, he deposits the risotto ingredients in the kitchen, then leads her upstairs like she’s forgotten where their own bedroom is. She’s too amused to be annoyed that he’s coddling her.

She sits down on the bed and takes off her shoes. He stands by the doorway, hovering. “Need anythin’?" 

Ellie kicks away her shoes and takes her jacket off. “You going somewhere?”

“Thought I’d just let you rest and I’ll go fix that window hinge in the downstairs loo so that – “

“Close the door and come here please.” She holds out a hand to him.

He does as he’s told then goes where he’s beckoned and accepts the hand offered to him.

“Stay with me?" 

He rubs the back of her hand with his thumb. “I’ll go wherever you like.”

He had a feeling they’d up end this way. But he prefers never to make assumptions.

Ellie tugs at his hand and pulls him in, keeps tugging until he’s leaning down to her level. “Need you here.” She interlaces their fingers, then kisses his lips, once, twice, three times before he parts his and lets her deepen the kiss. With her free hand she grabs at his shirt collar and pulls him in as she leans back. He gently pushes her down onto the bed, as she is guiding him to do, and she crawls backwards until she’s all the way on. He crawls over her body, kissing her softly but insistently, following her lead. He keeps their fingers interlocked, pressing their hands into the mattress beside her head, and with her free hand she begins unbuttoning her own blouse.

For all her strength, Ellie finds time and time again that she _needs _him, really needs him, more than she ever thought she would. He grounds her in time and space, emotionally and physically. Sometimes she only knows where she is because he’s with her. Her mind occasionally tries to ignore this fact and when the past reaches for her, when Joe invades her thoughts, she has to remind herself that Alec is the best, if not only, way to push him out. Her mind, and often even her body, will try to fight it, will demand that she be alone, that she remove herself from everyone around her. But what she truly needs in order to come back to life is him.

He lowers himself down, putting all his weight on her, and keeps on kissing her, slow and languid, exploring her mouth like he doesn’t already have all of it committed to memory. Without breaking the kiss, he reaches for a pillow and she raises her head so he can slip it beneath her. Her hand travels down to her own trousers and she unfastens them. He has to pull his hand away from hers in order to get them off her, and she raises her hips so that he can do so. He tosses them away, then goes right back to kissing her, and finds her hand yet again. 

Long ago she told him how she adores it when he holds her hand while they make love. Sometimes he feels like he can’t spare a hand for this purpose, needing his hands to be all over her, fingers either dragging heat across her skin, or hard at work inside her. But he can feel now that what she needs is to connect with him, to be connected _to_him, and when their fingers are intertwined this way it’s like they’re _recharging _each other. The sensation is too powerful for him to refuse her.

She starts unbuttoning his shirt with one hand, and they both are impressed with her dexterity. That done, she slides her hand up and down his bare chest, then up past his neck to cup the base of his skull. She nips at his bottom lip and then those lips separate so they can breathe.

He expects her now to ask him to talk to her, to say _anything_, only so she can hear his voice. It’s happened enough times before, after she’s had Joe invade her dreams, that he knows to do it. His voice is so distinctly _him_, it makes it near impossible for her mind to play tricks on her. Alec’s love language is touch. Hers is words of affirmation.

But she’s quiet now. Not asking a thing of him but to stay with her, keep touching her, to not go away. “All right?” He asks, and she nods. “Sit up?" 

He reluctantly pulls his hands away for hers so he can sit back and allow her to sit up. He pushes her already unbuttoned blouse off her shoulders and helps her pull it off completely. Then she helps him do the same with his own shirt. He stands up just briefly enough to divest himself of his trousers, then kneels back on the bed.

He kisses her, careful not to rush anything about it, or anything about anything, and with a hand on her shoulder says, “Lie back.”

This is perhaps his favorite thing. When he sits up on his knees and she’s lying before him, scantily clad. She always blushes when he looks at her from this angle, and frankly that’s the point – he’s mesmerized by the full-body blush that comes over her whenever she’s exposed and his eyes are on her. It’s like she’s tinted in rose gold. If you asked her, she might admit that, in this position, with him on his knees before her, the blushing might occasionally have something to do with the pulsing bulge in his pants. This view is perhaps _her _favorite thing too.

He grasps onto her ankle and extends her leg straight, his gaze firmly on her as he kisses from her foot slowly down her ankle, her calf, to her knee. She doesn’t always let him do this when they have what he has begun to call _post-traumatic sex _(he hadn’t intended to name it that or name it all and what’s more he’d never admit it). She likes to go slow but often she likes for it to be _focused_, a pleasurable means to an end but a means to an end nonetheless. Early on, the first time or two it happened, he felt a little like he was performing an exorcism of sorts. Bringing her back to life after a demon had entered her body, expelling the evil spirits that threatened her. He doesn’t get to do The Leg Thing as much as he likes. This is perhaps because though she has accepted that her breasts are a thing to behold and perhaps her arse isn’t so bad, she’s not convinced her legs are anything special. A hazard of being short, maybe. Though really it’s not so much that she’s short but that he’s _tall_. Five foot seven is nothing to sneeze at, except maybe when your partner, both at work and in life, is six foot one. 

But he likes this as a way of worshipping her, even if she has trouble seeing it. It’s an act of reverence, in his mind. He can taste her while still looking down and seeing _all _of her, every inch. Blush and all. He holds her leg as straight as he can while he kisses the inside of her knee. She forgets every time just how crazy this makes her and he’s intent upon reminding her. He sucks at the tender skin there meanwhile his other hand slowly travels down her thigh, fingers caressing the inside of it so lightly you’d hardly know they were there. He feels her shiver and smiles into her skin.

She won’t be quite this flexible, or flexible at all, a few more months into her pregnancy. He pushes her leg back toward her, stretching her quad muscles like he’s giving her a Thai massage and the sigh she releases is full-bodied. Bending forward, he starts his lips moving again, trailing down the back of her thigh until he can go no further. He moves between her legs now, dragging his teeth along the inside of her thigh. 

He’s not sure how long she’ll let this go on. But as long as she’s _looking _at him, silent but with a distinct _wonder _in her eyes, he knows she’s with him. Under these circumstances, he worries when she closes her eyes. With her eyes shut, he might lose her for a moment. He needs her to stay present. To stay _in _the present.

He sits up straight again, still on his knees, and lets her leg rest against his chest and shoulder. He reaches between her legs and just gently strokes her through the fabric of her knickers, feeling her out, literally and figuratively. But mostly figuratively. As he does this, his eyes wander from her face downward, and he notices something he hasn’t before. He grins, and when he looks back at her face he sees that she appears alarmed by the sudden change in his expression. He moves her leg back down onto the bed so he can lean forward and inspect his findings. He crawls over her, straddling her middle, his erection brushing against her. He lays a hand on her abdomen, then another. Her curiosity has now gotten the better of her and she props herself up on her elbows, trying to see what he’s doing, what he’s seeing.

He smiles at her again and he looks almost…giddy. “Can see it now,” he tells her. “Can _feel _it.”

“Wha? The baby?”

He reaches for her hands and places them where his had been. It’s an odd thing, to have someone else place your hands on your own stomach, to point out something about your body you haven’t noticed yourself, but she’s bizarrely moved by it. Truth be told she can’t really be surprised that he noticed before she did. He pays _far_more attention to her physical body than she does.

He covers her hands with his.

Then he pushes them away and replaces them with his lips. “_Ours_,” he says against her skin. “_Our _baby."

Lest the Joe of her nightmares try to sneak in again and claim what’s theirs, Alec would like to be _quite _clear on this point.

He can’t help touching between her legs as he kisses her stomach, the heat of her being _right there_, and he unconsciously begins rubbing his erection into the mattress as he does. He kisses his way up her body then, still stroking her through the damp fabric, pausing at her breasts and dragging his lips along the rim of her bra cups. He reaches underneath her to unhook the clasp and then strips it off of her. 

“These too, you know,” he mumbles, kissing the underside of one of them, and deciding to stay there.

He can hear the grudging smile in her voice. “These too _what_?”

“Bigger.”

The sound of her laughter is _magic_. He knows one of the most important things he can do right now is keep her engaged not only physically but emotionally and with _her_, laughter is frequently the best way to do that. The occasional joke may _seem_out of place given the intensity of this particular lovemaking session – though many other sessions between them not only involve but oftentimes _derive from _humor– he knows to do it anyway. It gets her to lift her head and look at him, both of them grinning like schoolchildren.

“Suspect this must be why you got me pregnant to begin with,” she quips, lying her head back down again.

He shakes his head, then flicks his tongue at her nipple. “Mm-mm, no. Couldn’t possibly have predicted such perfection could be improved upon." 

He’s starting to feel like he has her back now.

He takes her nipple into his mouth and then slides his hand back down between her legs. He’d have gone in by now, pushed her knickers aside, only he’s not sure that’s how she wants him. So for now he just rubs at her with his palm. And maybe every once in a while employs his thumb. She starts to sigh, and then those sighs start to sound a little more like gasps. Yes, she’s coming back to him now.

He finds her hand again with his free one, interlocking their fingers once more, then kisses his way up her chest, sucking at her clavicle before burying his face in her neck. She tilts her head to the side to give him better access. His erection is pressing against her stomach now and he wishes he could, you know, tone it done a bit so as not to pressure her. Meanwhile his thumb hits the exact right spot, even through the fabric, and her sudden high-pitched moan only makes him harder.

“Tell me what you need, love,” he murmurs into her ear. He knows it has to be one of the many ways she and Joe had never done it. He knows her sex life with him hadn’t been _vanilla_, but it also hadn’t been particularly adventurous.

“Want it like…” She closes her eyes, thinking back. “Like Bonfire Night.”

_Oh_. Well, fair enough, they certainly won’t be able to do _that _a couple months from now.

Her specificity makes him chuckles softly into her shoulder. She raises her head a bit. “Remember?”

“_Yes_, my love.” He lifts himself up a bit, still quite amused by her, and kisses her flushed cheek. “I remember.”

They’re detectives. They’re never forgotten a thing in their lives. For better…or for worse. 

He rolls off her and pulls off his briefs, tossing them across the room. When he glances back at her, she’s staring at his hard cock biting her lip. His cock twitches at that. He gets onto his knees and then places one foot on the mattress, knee bent. Like he’s down on one knee. She’s still just staring at him, a little dizzy from the view.

“Come on, then,” he directs her, but doesn’t bother trying to thwart his grin.

She pushes herself up and then walks over to him on her knees until she’s between his legs. She tries to ignore the erection pressing up against her as she takes his face in her hands and kisses him with all the breath she has. He brings a hand to the back of her thigh and guides her leg up over his bent leg, her thigh resting on top of his.

She breathes out. “Must get back into yoga.” 

His cock is nudging against her entrance already, desperate for her, but he slips a hand down first. “All right?”

She leans her forehead onto his shoulder and nods, placing one hand at his back and the other just resting on top of her own thigh. His finger finds her clit and she breathes in sharply. His other hand reaches for hers on top of her thigh and he interlaces their fingers again as he begins to rub at her, sticking another finger inside her as he does. She’s breathing heavily into his neck, nails digging into his back as he teases her clit. She’s going to come quickly positioned like this and he doesn’t know if she wants to yet.

“Ellie,” he says questioningly into her ear.

She bucks into his hand. “Do it.”

He keeps up his ministrations, now with abandon, and he no longer cares how fast she comes because there’s more with this came from. She’s gyrating her hips so hard that he thinks the friction against his cock will make _him _come and it takes everything within him to keep that from happening. He has to pull his hand away from hers to grip her hips and still her. As soon as he does, she comes, fast and hard, teeth sinking into his shoulder. She doesn’t _have _to be quiet now, but it’s become a natural instinct with three kids in the house. He waits to remove his hand until the exact second he’s sure she’s through, then he reaches for his cock.

“Let me,” she whispers, finally raises her head from his shoulder.

She pushes his hand away and takes over, guiding him inside her. They both gasp loudly and then smile at each other. He grasps her hip and pulls her in even closer, pushing himself a little deeper inside her. It’s not a position that allows for penetration to be especially deep, but they get to mold their bodies together in a way that gets them as close as possible, and they can still feel every part of each other. He grasps her arse with one hand, and with the other strokes the side of the breast that’s pressed into him. She has his face in her hands again, fingers curled into the back of his skull, kissing him hungrily as he begins to move inside her slowly.

When she pulls back to breathe, she drops her hands to his chest and opens her eyes; there are tears in them.

“Not crying,” she says stubbornly, before he can comment.

He brings a hand to her cheek and slows his movements close to a halt, though he cannot still his body entirely. “I know.”

She puts her arms around his shoulders, holding him as tightly as she can. Not crying. He keeps a hand at the small of her back with the same intention. The other hand in her hair, and he tilts her head so that her forehead is against his.

“You’re so good,” she says softly, and he knows she doesn’t mean _at sex_. “You are so good to me.”

“No, no.” He pushes her hair out of her face. “Good _for _ you. That’s all.”

He kisses her lips, her cheek, and her jawline in quick succession, then nudges her head to the side so he can kiss her neck. He begins thrusting inside her again, gripping her hips as he finds a rhythm. He’ll not let her get submerged in these feelings of unworthiness. His only goal is to make her feel good and he will absolutely do that.

But his knees are killing him now and he knows hers must be too. 

“Hang on,” he tells her, and means it literally.

For a moment they’re a tangle of limbs as he repositions them so that he’s sitting on the bed fully, against the headboard, with her straddling him. And somehow he’s only manged to halfway slip out of her. He guides himself back in, and decides to let her lead from here.

She moves over him, and they hold each other close as she just rides him for a few moments, reconfiguring emotionally and physically. Then she moves one of his hands to her breast, and moves the other between them, and lets him take it from there. He thumbs her clit as she thrusts into him, and from the second he starts he’s close to coming.

“Slow,” he whispers to her, and she slows her movements.

She slows her thrusting but he picks up the pace of his fingers at her clit and somehow they feel they are meeting in the middle. When he feels like she’s getting close, he bucks his hips up into her and that finishing touch – literally – sends her over the edge, crying out. The sound of her cries does _him _in and he follows suit, gasping and groaning into her neck. She collapses against him, totally limp, and he closes his eyes, happily running his fingers up and down her back, slick with sweat.

“Jesus fucking _hell_,” she exhales. “I love everything about you.”

He chuckles softly. “No you don’t.” 

“Shh, don’t ruin it.” She lifts her head off his shoulder and covers his mouth with her index finger. He smiles and she removes it.

“Better now?” He asks, trying not to be cheeky, but it’s implied.

“I feel so _good_,” she says, feeling like she has lost the rest of her words, this is the only way she can think to describe the moment.

“Then I’ve done my job,” he says contentedly, kissing her.

She touches his cheek, feeling the bristle of his beard. “Thank you.”

“Thank me after the risotto.”

Her eyes widen. “Oh, the _risotto_.”

“Speaking of which.” He plants a kiss on her nose. “I ought to shower and then get started on dinner. Kids’ll be home soon.”

She sighs. “Oh, all right.”

She crawls off of him and lies on her back.

“You stay here,” he insists, leaving a few quick kisses on her chest before forcing himself out of bed. “Rest awhile. I’ll bring you a cuppa after I rinse off.”

“Alec.” She reaches out to grab his hand just before he’s out of reach. “I adore you, you know.”

He flashes her a crooked but winning smile. “Just earnin’ my keep."

Alec disappears into the loo. She pulls the duvet over her and snuggles into her pillow. When she closes her eyes, Joe is nowhere to be seen.

***


End file.
